This is my first blog post and I am excited you are here. Make a cup of tea and sit with me as I dive into an introductory post of how it all started.

I have been writing in a journal since April about my travels, but started writing last year in a different journal given to me by a dear friend from The Voice. My mother wakes up every morning and has her coffee while she journals, so she passed along the idea to me. I then copied her ways and would jump from cafe to cafe in Canberra, writing a little each day. In this journal I blossomed, finding a new and beneficial outlet for me. This is my 2.0 journal, this blog. I’m excited to share what life has been like, what I’ve been through and what’s to come.

When I departed on my 26 hour journey to London on the 11th of April, My life felt empty. All I wanted to do was go on this highly anticipated trip. Nothing else mattered. As the past four years had flown by, there had been growth, creativity and joy. Although, there had also been pain, grief and loss. It had been tough for me. Tough behind the scenes that I don’t show. Let’s briefly go a bit further back.

I was raised in Newtown from the age of 2 and left for the USA when I was 9. I loved Newtown, it was a great start of my childhood. My school was across the road, the community was awesome, and Sydney was a beautiful place to be raised. When I moved to the states with my sister Jasmine ( 21), brother Lukas ( 18) and my mum & dad, we were a healthy christian family ready to embrace this new culture shock together. The next 4.5 years flew by in that house in Lake Zurich, Illinois. I attended all 3 forms of schooling. Elementary School, Middle School ( literally death ) and High School ( yes there were pom pom’s and quarterbacks! lol). I can confidently say High school was a prime time of my social life. House parties, wake-surfing every summer, and 9 classes a day in a huge school of kids who drove jeeps, was pretty awesome. I truly felt like I was in High school Musical, which was also such a core part of my Aussie upbringing. My family life was pretty stable, growing up in a beautiful house with two parents and 2 siblings, sure there were ups and downs but there was nothing to be truly worried about. I took piano lessons, where I eventually focused on singing and playing music. I learned “Stay” by Rihanna as my first cover and wrote it down on an envelope. I would learn a cover each week and perform it for my teacher as the highlight of my lesson. That’s where my music all started, on that baby grand in our warm living room. I also was super into Theatre and played some lead roles growing up, I think that is eventually the thing I want to do, be on stage professionally. I also took dance lessons and singing lessons. So you can say I was being taken of well and was feeling pretty loved.

When we had to move back after the assigned time there, it was the real first lowest point for me. Leaving a community of people that truly loved me, I still haven’t felt that amount of community love since that era. My 14 year old self was incredibly lucky, and I’ll never forget it. When we moved back it was just my family & I and to be honest, my life flipped on an 180. I had no community anymore and my family was breaking apart. My parents got separated only two months of moving across the world and you can guess how controversial that was for the church at the time. At youth group, no one knew how to comfort me, and I didn’t know how to comfort myself. While making a close group of friends at school, I truly depended on them and music to get me through 2019-2021. They were my family. The divorce could of gone pretty smooth if my parents chose to be civil, but alas it did not turn out that way, and it became more of a disgusting battle. I was raised to understand that a christian man who was a father and leader, would protect and fight for his family, no matter what. So you can see how it was difficult and confusing for a 15 year old who is ambitious and persistent, who wants her strong family back together. I just did not understand. My own problems with my dad arose during the first two years that it got so extreme for me and I had to cut that energy completely out of my life. I haven’t spoken to him since July 2020. I won’t go into that on this post but that entire event led me to Manarola, Italy.

In 2019 my mental health was the lowest it has ever been. I was diagnosed with mild depression and a therapist who would cry at my story and updates every week. Not helpful hey. I just had no idea what to do. I fell into the endless pit of self pity. Self sabotage. The deepest pit you can imagine. There was only so much my friends could help and taking advice from your 15 year old friends isn’t the healthiest all the time when you’re in need. So I made a goal. I found this photo on the web and decided I would spend the next 4 years through year 9 to 12 devoting my time and money into getting the fuck out of here, and onto this mountain in Manarola to cry. My escape.

I know it sounds silly but it was a thought in the back of my head that I would never make it by myself to this place. This picture -perfect place that a lot of people ( and I mean a lot) tested my ambition to get there, ended up being the best highlight of 2023. In 2019, I opened a savings account called 2023 savings, and started to apply to cafes. I had now worked in 6 different cafes after 4 years making it a dream to get to Europe by myself. I budgeted to work towards 3-6 months of backpacking. I would work before school at 6 am, then after school from 4-8 pm. I did anything to raise that money to get to Manarola. Everybody saved for cars and I chose to save because I was raising money to travel for 6 months. No one else in my group were traveling straight after school, not like this. Not by themselves at 18, when they had never even been on a plane alone yet. I know it’s not wild to travel after school by yourself, but in my small community in Canberra, I couldn’t find anyone else doing the same solo adventure.

I made it to Manarola, Italy in the Cinque Terre on June 16th, 2023. The way I cried walking into that town. Just like the pictures. A small milestone for some, yet the biggest for me. The way I could imagine perfectly the 2020 Xanthe crumbling into the floor when felt another vile thing had happened and wishing she was gone, to now Xanthe in 2023 being in the place that her 15 year old self had wished for, for so long. It was a inner child release that made it all worth it. The long travel days and solitude, the cheap bnbs in the middle of nowhere, the lugging around of the 20k backpack. It was all worth it when I spent my birthday crying tears of joy for once.

I didn’t magically heal stepping into this town. But the thought of this dream of mine finally coming together was ever so satisfying. Not only that but was enormously powerful above all. A kinda fuck you to everyone that doubted me. Everyone that I had felt unloved by. Everyone that had judged me for not starting on music first. This was always first for me and It was only the beginning.

As I said, this post is only the first taste. An introduction to the source. I will be further expanding on everything mentioned here. My past, my healing journey, and what’s next for me. I wanted to share my background first before diving a bit further.

Healing is nonlinear. It is not a straight line. It is not a light switch. I did think being in Manarola would be my escape for a while. It would make my trauma and problems vanish from me. That is totally not the case. The healing is constant. I did do release meditations and that helped contact my past self, although the hype up to this big cry, did not happen. I had accepted that in 2021 when I started my own personal growth journey before traveling. I can’t wait to share that year of my life here too. Soon.

I am so happy you are here and on this new journey of creativity with me. I hope you enjoyed reading a little bit of a vague introduction about me. I can’t wait to share more.

how it all started

high hopes & low expectations in 2024